Hot Air Balloon
by xBriNoodlex
Summary: America invites England over for a visit, but unlike England expected; America hadn't a thing planned. See what happens to the two when it all starts with a story. Parody of Owl city's : Hot Air Balloon! Country and Human names used! Small fluff and USUK!


_**Hellur! BriNoodle here, with my first Parody!**_

**Why a Parody? Well...First off, the title is *Yes* From the Owl city song - Hot air balloon and the reason why this is a Parody. Although unlike in the song, I have swapped some of the events to match realisticly. Hope that doesn't bother you!**

**Warnings?: Not really...There's no swearing but there is some small fluff *But no kissing and such*. No gore, violence, etc. **

**Disclaimer! : I, Brinoodle, do NOT own Hetalia : Axis Powers and the magnicifence of all that is OWL CITY33**

**~Enjoy!~**

* * *

Hearing a small 'Rrrr' hum from the sheathed pockets of the sides of my jeans, I easily scooped out the ringing cell phone from my pocket. Flipping back the screen turning the phone to a lighted life, I read the awaiting call.

"hey artie, we might hav 2 go 2 town after I get u from the airport, k?" Was the messaged text.

Of course, it's only owner would be the American blonde, Alfred, whom I was flying to for a visit in the first place. I had before-hand had planned to spend my week shifting out the ancient contents stored away up in my attic...But that was all good and set until Alfred had another idea. He insisted that instead I came to his house for the week, I asked him what he would've had in mind...But that is to be an 'Awesome surprise!' for my arrival. I didn't really want to go until I found out what we would be doing (Mostly just so...Well y'know? Prepare.) But I didn't have much of a choice. Once the git has his mind set, he won't take no for an answer. So here I am now, in the morning flight from London, England...The whole way across the pond to L.A. in the United States. I sighed, this should be fun.

"Hey Iggy!" Called America from a short distance away from where I was standing, even with glasses the guy had pretty keen vision since I had JUST gotten off the plane seconds before.

I sighed, accepting the fact that trying to correct the American was futile.

"Hello America. But just where exactly in 'Town' are we going?" I questioned, asking the question in person rather than over a phone. He grinned with a pure white smile to me.

"You will see! C'mon, let's get going there before it gets too crowded at the exits!" He urged, taking grasp of my luggage as he began walking with cheer in his step towards the closest exit. I sighed, knowing America that it could be anything they were going to see. 'Please don't let it be one of those big, bustling cities of his again.' I groaned to myself mentally, not wanting to remember the past events of the time he visited a city in Pennsylvania, one of his states...Pittsburgh I think it was; to one of the local bars. I knew that I was going to get drunk and reminded him how terrible I was with drinking, but my warnings were ignored. Instead, in the end we nearly ended up being kicked out of the place; me a drunken mess and America too stubborn to leave when I had apparently caused some commotion, leading to the manager asking Alfred and I to leave. Eventually in the night it must've been that America had decided that I had drank too much and had us returned to a cottage somewhere outside the major city. After that, I woke up with one of my worst hangovers in my history.

As we exited the Airport station, I could see that America's prediction of the Exit becoming busy swiftly turned correct. Walking into the parking lot, I saw Alfred slip a gloved hand into his favorite Bomber jacket and he must have found his Car keys, because just a short distance in front of us a Red sports car clicked to life. I wasn't surprised that this car was his, it matched him perfectly. Two parallel lines of white were placed along the hood, roof and down the bumper of the car, only bringing out the depth of the red vehicle.

"Hey artie, watch this!" Alfred called, before giving a short sprint to the hood of his car. Almost like something out of one of his crazy movies, the lad jumped up, just high enough to carefully slide along the hood, but low enough that he didn't literally JUMP over. Next thing known he was on the other side, opening the door to the driver's seat. I blinked, surprised that he both pulled that off and didn't manage to cause a dent in the hood. Either this car was made 'Military' style...Or America wasn't quite as 'Heavy' as everyone proclaimed.

Before Alfred could complain of me being a slow poke, I pulled back on the handle of the door, opening it and slipping inside. It wasn't bad; quite comfortable actually. Unlike some would imagine, the car being piled high with McDonalds wrappers and other trash assorts...It was cleanse of those things.

"Where to now?" I asked while America twisted the Star-keychain car key, blaring the engine to life. But instead of a straight answer again I was repeated a similar one to before.

"Just wait! Gosh I thought gentlemen were supposed to be patient." He commented, obviously knowing how to push my buttons.

"It's completely different when you are off to somewhere you aren't even sure of, you git!" I scowled but only causing laughter from Alfred to arise.

"So how far is this 'town' anyways?" I continued to question, Alfred pulling over his seat belt across his torso into the little buckle at the corner of the seat.

"About a half hour from here. Don't worry though, it won't take long!" He assured, starting to pull the car out of the parking space and through the lot. I sighed, turning my gaze to the now rolling fields, trees and landscape. Just how would this day go?

"Hey England." America spoke up, breaking a small 5 minute silence, since the small conversation when we had left the port.

"Yes?" I answered him, tilting my head away from the window.

"We should make a story." Alfred said completely out of the blue. What? A story? This was...Extremely unlike something I would have expected of him to ask.

"What? Why a story, Alfred?" I replied, asking my confusion.

"...Well..." He started, obviously thinking still of the reason. "Because, a story would be cool. Heroes are in stories too!" He stated.

"You are the United States of America; you have your own history of stories about you!" I said, half wondering if he had even thought of that.

"No! Not like that! I meant...Like an adventure, a story with you and I, like a Fairy tale! You're good at that right? You love fairies!" Alfred exclaimed. Wow...Did he have that much faith with how well I am with fairy tales? I felt a little heat cascade to the brim of my cheeks; Alfred didn't want some make-believe story of himself...He wanted one with the both of us. That made me smile and in reaction, caused his to increase.

"Alright. What kind of Fairy tale? And keep your eyes on the road!" I agreed, my head turning to speak the future conversation.

"Hmm...Oh! Maybe something with like a Warrior! That could be me of course, and since you like magic so much you could be a Mage! Oooh and a dragon too. Those things are so cool! The place we adventure in could be called...Could be called Hetalia! Also..." Alfred rambled on with seemingly never-ending ideas, sky blue eyes looking to the road...but seemed almost focused else-where, as if imagining every detail he explained. I swore I could see a small sparkle in his eyes, probably caused by the sun through the windshield.

For the first time today...I felt happy and relaxed.

Maybe I really don't care where we are going...As long as...As long as things stay like this.

* * *

Almost immediately after finishing another simple, but creatively detailed idea for our 'Story', Alfred exclaimed something off of the topic.

"Hey! What's that?"

"Huh? It looks like...A Church?"

"Yeah, I know that but it looks like some sort of Garage sale!" He pointed out and he was right; it did look like a some sort of Sale going on. A few townspeople spread through the tables of ranks of various items; old toys, books, collectables, clothes, furniture even.

"Let's go!" Alfred said, before I could even protest he had both changed his turn signal and began pulling into a grassy parking space. I sighed, thankful to my past self as being smart enough to bring money. Fortunately enough it was that the money wasn't the currency of my country; rather it was America's.

"I'm coming." I replied, unbuckling my seatbelt. Opening the car door, I stepped out to already see Alfred scanning the closest table available.

"Hey Iggy, Look at this!" He exclaimed, calling me over from a section of Old Tea sets.

"Hmm? What it is?" I asked, examining the mound of what seemed to be only cloth; but even so, America was looking at it like he was hysterical.

"You don't know what it is? Eng, it's a Parachute!" He explained, a happily surprised look planted to his face.

"Oh...What's a Parachute doing in a *above all* Church sale?" I questioned, but my question wasn't heard. That, of course was because Alfred had already scooped up the bundle of a Parachute and was now carrying it over to the place of Purchase.

"Alfred! You aren't going to buy that are you?" I asked him, jogging over to catch up.

"Well of course I am! It's not every day you can buy a Parachute and plus this would be extra cheap!" He explained, but I could see those were only excuses. 'Since when did he care about expensive?' I mumbled to myself mentally, but continuing to keep up with America.

"I'll take it." Alfred stated, placing the mound surprisingly carefully onto the wooden table, in front of two church women looking around in their 50's. One of them glanced at the little white price tag that was dangling off the side, the other writing down the sale to a small tablet.

"$ Dollars, sir." The woman on the right responded, lifting her head from the metal lunch box. Inside I could see multiple green slips of paper and I realized that it must've been a make-shift form of a cash register.

"Here you go." Alfred responded, handing the woman a single slip of currency, the amount given only a few dollars above the actual price. Handing America the change, the woman placed the money away with a nod of the head.

"Thank you, and have a nice day!" Alfred said, scooping up the bundle again. Both women responded with similar thanks, before the both of us began walking back to his car.

"Hey...What are you going to use it for?" I asked, the question merely one that was floating around the rim of my mind; but still worth asking. I saw his broad shoulders shrug.

"Dunno, probably something awesome though." Was his response.

Something awesome, huh...Well...If it came to Alfred...Yeah, it would indeed be 'Awesome'.

* * *

"Here we are." Alfred announced, pulling a hand to the engine keys and switching them off. I looked at the destination we had arrived at; To me...It looked like one of those rural cottages you often see in country-sides, with huge yards...Trees...And most of the other pieces of wild-life you often didn't see near cities and towns.

"Where is this? It's amazing." I said with pure honesty, because I really did have a thing for places like this. In my country...There were many places like this, but to me each is unique. I unbuckled my seatbelt, pulled the door open once again and stepped out. Along with the scene carried along a thick breeze of clean, forest-like air.

"Oh, this place? My mom lives here, she likes it." Alfred said, but the way he said it was as if...Like it was an everyday thing. Personally, I wouldn't be so fascinated at this place if it wasn't because a lot of...A lot of wild life in the world today was dying, especially with big countries like America and how they quickly did away with forests...For just places like another McDonalds or other some sort of Fast food drive.

'I didn't know Mrs. Jones had a thing for rural places.' I thought to myself, remembering how a couple of years ago it had been a two story house in a sub-urban town in New York.

Alfred, now walking up the side walk towards the front door, was carrying the same parachute he had purchased only ten minutes before. I still pondered on ideas for what he had planned for it.

Putting out an open hand, Alfred knocked on the door as I caught up with him at the doorstep. Seconds passed, but nobody had answered.

"Huh, she must be at the store." Alfred assumed, pulling out his key chain with the free hand again, choosing a specific long, silvery white key. Slipping the key into the golden door knob with a twist, America pushed back the open and unlocked door with ease. Stepping in first, he continued down the short hallway to what looked to be a kitchen.

As I entered following Alfred's lead, I peered around with curious eyes just a bit. The house was very interesting. Along the hall-way hung dozens of pictures of Alfred's family. Some of them were of him and multiple family members, like his brother Matthew, Emily Jones his mother and a variety of other relatives. Others were of pets, one of them a picture of a furry white cat with an even fluffier black ring around his neck. A shocking resemblance played between Alfred's eyes and the cat's, the bottom corner labeled 'Americat' in a distinctive hand-writing owned only by the American himself. The walls were a soft tan, glossy wooden floorings masked by the often pattern-gazing rug and the heavy; but sweet scent of the Honeysuckle flower.

"In here." Alfred said, calling me from what I confirmed the kitchen of the house. The room was mostly white; walls, furniture and all.

"What are you getting out?" I asked him, seeing as that he was carrying a large brown storage box from another room.

"My mom's old sewing machine." He responded, unpacking the piece of machinery.

I was confused. "Why a sewing machine? But besides that, you know how to sow?-"

"Look." He asked, finishing unloading the dusty machine. He reached for the Parachute sitting still in a blob on the table and as he did he did not try to keep it from spreading out. Almost letting out a gasp, I looked at the red sheet of a parachute. The thing had multiple holes in it; most of them not that big...But holes!

"So..." I mumbled. "That's why it had been so bloody cheap."

"Yup." He confirmed. "But that's not a worry; we can fix it! I don't know how to sow...But-"

"Wait wait wait, if you can't sow then how is it that the both of us will be working on it?" I asked confused.

Again another wide, childish grin spread to America's face.

"Because, I have the material to fix it! Besides, I'm sure /YOU/ could show me a thing or two about it. You're smart like that Arthur." Alfred said, voice sounding pure of honesty. I felt almost blushing...And I probably was. "W-Well...I guess maybe-"

"Thanks Iggy!" America interrupted at the first sign of a 'yes', arms wrapped around my shoulders for a tight bear-hug.

"Y-You're...Crushing...Me..." I managed to say, short of breath. In an instant his arms unclasped, a tint of red dusting his cheeks.

"Sorry...I can never really tell the extent to my strength." He said rashly, rubbing the back of his neck. I inhaled; then sighed.

"It's alright...Oh and hey, where's that material you promised?" I asked curiously. I felt a warm wave wash over me as that same grin resumed.

"I thought you'd ask that."

"Wow, this is tough." I murmured, having to place extra focus on the machine then I normally would need to.

"It's okay because you're doing great!" Alfred exclaimed, but low enough so that he wasn't trying to actually break my focus. In a mass of straightened string, were two piles of Maroon red and navy blue string to my left of the machine, the string I was currently using easily and gently served into the stitches.

"There...Done." I said, pulling back from the machine as I had finished the last of the whole patches. I got up from the chair, Alfred and I standing back to look at the finished Parachute.

"It looks awesome!" Alfred said, voice packed with emphasis. I felt a smile edge in. "You think so...?"

"Yeah! But-oh...Hey Artie." He said kind of slow, as if a spotted problem occurred. I almost thought a cold sweat hit my forehead.

"Y-Yeah?" I responded, sounding a bit sheepish.

Completely unexpected as it was, it happened fast. Instantly as I replied, America snatched the Maroon colored string from the table top and began leaving a long trail of string behind him. Surprisingly for his size although, he weaved through multiple sets of furniture and tables.

"Alfred! What are you doing?" I cried, not knowing what else to ask. But my only response was laughter, and a: "C'mon Arthur! Grab the other pile and help me!" He exclaimed.

"What?" Was my only thing to say. Here I was, over at Alfred's own mother's home and he was asking me to help him in making a mess. Sighing, I remembered a common saying.

'Can't beat em'...Join 'em.' Would the line say, remembering it had been one of his elder brothers to teach him that. My shoulders shrugged, as I grabbed the Navy blue string and joined in with a laugh.

* * *

It was now, that we had both reached the point of exhaustion after multiple trips through...Multiple places of furniture and rooms with the string; and get this...There was still Loads and Loads more to go! This stuff could last miles if we really set to it.

A minute passed in an unsteady duo of heavy breathing between Alfred and me, before he had asked another question.

"Hey Arthur?" He asked.

"Yes?"

"I know what we can do." He said with his heavy chest dying down. A wide grin spread his face as he just waited until I replied until he could let loose his idea.

"And that would be?-"

"Let's go check out the basement!" He exclaimed into my sentence. The basement?

"Why the basement?" I asked him. Pressing forward, I watched as America pulled forward and stood up from the couch to my left.

"C'mon! There's probably a bunch of cool stuff down there! Mom says there aren't any ghosts...so...It should be safe!" Alfred said, sounding really wanting of an exploration to the floor below. But before I could respond, he continued on.

"A-And if it's not safe, I'm the Hero so I'll protect you!" He said almost sounding a bit rushed. That was a bit touching, because I know of the great amount between America and his fear of ghosts and ghouls...But despite that he would go as to 'protect' me from them.

"Alright...If you insi-"

"Awesome! It's this way...Wait" He said, grabbing my wrist and lifting me to my feet with that inhuman strength of his; but he stopped.

"We need some kind of light source...Let's go check the kitchen drawers!" He suggested, letting go of my wrist to go there. Following him, he directed me to a certain white cup-board.

"Here, check in here first. I'll go look in the closet for any flash-lights." He said, already half running out of the kitchen and out to the closet. I looked down, a hand pulling open the cup-board. Rummaging through the variety of mixed screws, bolts, screw-drivers, metal rings and other assortments of tools...I didn't happen to come across a flash light. Instead I had found a box of matches. Maybe that could work...

"Find anything?" Alfred asked; quickly back from his end of the search.

"Sort of. No flashlights, but I did find this." I said, holding out the box of labeled red-tipped matches.

"Oh...That'll work I guess." America decided, grabbing the box and heading over to the basement door.

The door of the basement was also white and in the kitchen. Alfred turned the white-painted door knob, and pushed inwards opening a room of concealed darkness. Instantly as light touched the room from the kitchen, the shadows of the basement swarmed backwards in retaliation. Before us laid a stair case of dusty grey wooden steps.

"The kitchen should light our way down there...So I'll light a match at the bottom." I stated, Alfred nodding and already starting to descend the stairs with a shaky step. I began following him down with a slower pace, as the black of the basement grew around me. Careful as to where I stepped, I got off of the set of stairs and to where I believed standing in almost total darkness next to Alfred.

A second passed as I rummaged into the box of matches, fingers touching a familiar thin slither of wood. I picked it from the rest, pulling back and sliding it along the bumpy side of the carton.

"Oh my god!" Alfred yelled, either in shock or surprise.

"What? What is it?" I almost hesitated to say, eyes blinking to adjust to the addition of light.

"It's...We have a red Air balloon!"

* * *

"You know what we gotta do now, Artie?" Alfred said, seconds passed after the discovery of the old, maroon colored balloon.

"And what might that be?" I responded.

"We've gotta fly this thing! I remember how; because I had to take lessons on it once a long time ago!" America said, eyes that *even in the dim light of a match* showed such excitement with a childish look through azure sky blues. I blinked, having to go and recall the words he had just said.

"Are you sure? I mean...There's still the mess upstairs-"

"Heck yeah I'm sure! C'mon, please? It'll be a blast! You'll love it!" He begged, his eyes meeting mine in an almost 'puppy dog' look. I felt heat rising to my face...How could I say no to that?

"Okay...Fine..." I mumbled almost hoping he wouldn't hear, but regretting thinking that when I was embraced with a thankful hug.

* * *

Five hours ago, Alfred had come to the Airport to pick me up for a visit to his place. Five hours later from that, here we were standing in his mum's backyard of her wonderful country-side home. Here were the rolling hills, pressing mountains and stretching fields of one of his precious states. Here we were about to aboard a Hot Air Balloon.

"C'mon Iggy, it's ready to fly!" Alfred called from inside the Balloon's basket in only jeans and a T-shirt, had he left the bomber jacket inside claiming it was too hot to work around fire and wear a jacket at the same time.

"Alright, just let me grab my Cell phone." I responded, snatching the phone from beside the sewing machine in the kitchen. I jogged out and into the back yard to see America was right; the balloon was floated, and just ready for take-off. I walked over and entered the basket through a small latch-open door. He began to grin, before growing a look of worry.

"Wait! I forgot my jacket!" He said, reaching for the door.

"Al, just leave the jacket, you'll be fine!" I assured him, trying not to express my own excitement to get the Balloon into the air. He started to pout for a second...But stopped himself.

"Oh...Fine...But look at this!" He called resuming his enthusiasm, as he lifted...A rock?

"What's that fo-" But I was stopped, as he showed me. Tossing the rock in amazing precision, the rock nailed the large peg holding the massive balloon to the ground, but the tossed rock had completely snagged the rope from the peg, leaving the balloon with only a shudder...And lift off.

"Whoa..." I said as the balloon began to steady itself. Al grinned and leaned over the edge, putting an arm down to collect the rope. As we ascended...The landscape was absolutely breath taking.

For miles the land sprawled in all described fields, hills, houses, a town even in the distance, multiple farms, and forests. Also as Alfred saw my reaction to his home, too did his grow. He seemed happy...I was happy, so I hope he is too.

"Hey Ig, watch this!" Alfred said, putting a hand to the small boxed flame fueling our little aircraft, twisting a small knob. As he twisted, I could feel the balloon slowly descend; the size of the pine forest below increasing.

"Al, stop that! We'll crash!" I said, trying to see if he realized the length of the balloon's basket, us and the trees. He gave a small laugh before replying to me.

"Just watch!" He said, as he abruptly leaned forward, tilting the basket to an amount that I had to grip the rims from leaning forward myself. What was he thinking? We could fall out!

Just as I thought the balloon would tip and crash, Alfred pulled back with a handful of...Was that pine? Were we seriously THAT close to the ground? Al held the pine to me, watching with his azure gems of eyes.

"Smell it!" He urged, waiting half patiently for me to accept the plant. Without sighing, I picked up the twig of live pine, lifting it up towards my head just close enough so that I could scent the plant. The smell of thick, sweet pine filled my nose; carrying both memories of that with a Christmas tree and a forest. The kind gesture made me feel great and so I smiled to him and continued holding onto the pine.

We both turned our heads, examining the landscape and all it had to behold. After about 20 minutes of laughing, standing and conversing, I began feeling...Tired...And thirsty. The next thing I could tell, I was leaning against Alfred, head tilted tiredly to his shoulder.

"You tired?" He asked and I responded with a nod. Keeping a smile to his face, Alfred lifted his opposite arm to the one I leaned on up, twisting another knob. Again the balloon began a descend...But this time; to a lakeside. I tried pressing back the feeling of doubt; I mean he DID say that he knew how to fly a balloon.

Thankfully enough the both of us were right and the old balloon gently dipped to the ground, landing with only a small 'thump' of the bottom basket making contact with the ground. Alfred quickly grabbed the rope sitting in a bundle at the floor of our basket, unlatching the door and jumping out. Before the balloon could begin flying or drifting away, America already had it tied firmly to the closest tree; a birch. I stepped out of the basket myself only seconds after he did, giving a stretch through my spine and arms.

"Any idea where we are?" I asked him. Still he wore that cheer lifting, friendly smile and responded.

"Sort of, but that's not a problem. You thirsty?" He asked, going back to the basket and retrieving a bag. Surprisingly enough inside the bag were two large bottles of lemonade.

"Sure." I responded, quite liking the taste of lemonade. He tossed me one of the two, the outside of the yellow plastic bottle was a misty wet, from the cool drink inside. I looked down at the bottle as I twisted open it's cap, seeing that the Lemonade had come from one of his 5 'Great lakes'. I think...Weren't the lakes the whole way across the country?

"It's really good, might be a little sweet for your taste but I think you'll like it anyways." He said, instantly being able to open his with a single twist. Now with mine open, I lifted the drink up and took a taste.

"Well..." I said, after having a gulp or two of the drink.

"It's not tea, but it is good." I agreed, and he responded with a smile. I also saw that he was no longer standing; but now leaned against the birch. Feeling tired myself, I walked over to join him, as I walked into the shade I could feel the eased cool bliss of the tree's shadow. Sitting down, leaning against both the tree and Alfred, we both took in the glazed look of the lake and its beautiful sun setting sky.

"You know..." I began. "If we keep this up, I'm going to be out of my mind soon." He suppressed a laugh, but I went on. "And you'll be out of ideas soon."

I remembered back to the gloomy morning of being on the airplane. Just how did this day go? This 'day' could not get any better, was in fact the answer.

* * *

**Yey3Finally it's done. I spent about...2 days working on it and since this is my first somewhat-a-USUK, I hope it wasn't too terrible.**

**First, I had the different main events from the song split into multiple line breaks.**

**Second, since i've never been to L.A. it was slightly difficult for me to come up with descriptions for the land there, extremley sorry!**

**Third, I might do more of these, so if I do, mind giving me a song or two to help? =D**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Review and Alfie will take you for a ride on the Air balloon3**


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